Viewfinder
by juungi
Summary: Himuro Tatsuya, she decided, was an anomaly among high school boys. Himuro x OC
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** So I couldn't shake this idea and had been wanting to write a Himuro fic for a while. I hope you guys enjoy it! I intend for it to be fairly short. Also in case anyone is curious, the title is something random and has no deeper meaning (coughs much like Sugarcane).

* * *

**One**

One shaky breath, two steps, and three knocks was all it took to enter the gym. Her ears were filled with the squeak of sneakers against the wooden floor, the gentle drumming of a basketball and the swish of the net as someone took a shot. The smell of sweat hung thick in the air, which was already somehow heavy and oppressive. Perhaps it was because of the impending Winter Cup.

"Can I help you?" a voice interrupted before she could slip in any further than the outside edge of the court.

The rest of the team seemed preoccupied with practice and didn't notice her presence. She peered up at the man who towered over her. His most distinct feature, she decided, were the thick, fuzzy eyebrows—but she also noticed an unusual pink tint to his cheeks.

"Uh," she started, feeling a little awkward as she looked down at the camera hanging around her neck. "I'm Hirose Kanon, with the school newspaper. I'm supposed to come here for an interview today."

"You?" he echoed back with a look of surprise. "I thought Hanashima was going to be interviewing us."

_So I did I,_ she thought quietly to herself. "Hanashima has the flu, apparently."

The captain quirked a brow. "It's not even flu season."

"I know."

A smile stretched across his thick lips as he puffed his chest out. "I am the captain of the team, Okamura Kenichi."

"Yes, I know," she said uneasily, recalling how she had hastily researched the basics of their profiles after having the job shoved into her lap. Kanon lifted a hand and scratched at her forehead, disturbing the layer of dark bangs hanging over the left side of her face. "Anyways, the one I'm supposed to be interviewing is...?"

"Ah, yes. We can't sacrifice valuable practice time to have you interview the whole team. So we nominated Himuro." The man rubbed his thick neck as he relayed the information, a hint of bitterness in his tone. He muttered under his breath about his teammate's luck with the ladies—a comment that successfully flew right over Kanon's head.

"Alright. Then if I can just borrow him for a few minutes for the interview... after, if you don't mind, I will take a few snapshots and be on my way." The disinterest in her voice could not have been more clear—where Hanashima was always energetic and excited about an exclusive, particularly when it pertained to the sports clubs, Kanon had little interest in engaging people at all.

While waiting for the captain to retrieve her interviewee, Kanon took a seat on the bleachers—watching impassively as two of the players faced off in a one-on-one. The echo of approaching footsteps didn't seem to alert her, at least until she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Hirose-san?"

She inclined her head as she met his gaze. Although the two had never spoken, she recognized him from her class—the boy with a mole beneath his right eye whose amiable nature seemed to enchant all the girls regardless of age. "Thank you for agreeing to this interview."

"No, thank you for taking enough interest in covering the basketball club."

There was a long pause where she just stared at him in the face, scrutinizing in an honest attempt to suss out his appeal. Her stare seemed to puzzle him, because he eventually tilted his head.

"Hirose-san? Is something...?"

Her only visible brow lifted a fraction. "We have similar hairstyles," she noted dully.

"Is that so?" He seemed self-conscious, fiddling with the bangs hanging over his face.

"Well, my hair is longer."

For a moment he stared back at her, as though in disbelief that she had made such an obvious comment. Then just as quickly he let out a strangled laugh. "Yes... you definitely do have longer hair."

Kanon felt suddenly uncomfortable with the idle chatter. She motioned to the seat beside her. "You can sit down." As she waited for him to do so, she slipped a hand into her bag, withdrawing a notebook. Kanon wet a finger with her tongue, flipping hastily through the pages until she landed on the right one.

"You're a replacement for Hanashima-san?" Himuro asked as he settled down beside her, just as he had been instructed.

"Yes." Not being one much for conversation, she offered only a short, succinct response before digging out a pen and peering up at him. "Alright, so the first question..." Kanon read through them like a laundry list with a vague inclination that they were generic and boring—but she supposed they were the type of things that anyone interested in sports would want to know.

Himuro was amiable and more than willing to accommodate each of the questions, with a fluid transition that seemed to indicate he was accustomed to the process. There were no stutters or unnecessary pauses.

At least until she arrived at the last question, which was preceded by a frown and punctuated by a sigh. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

He blinked. "Do I have... a what?"

Completely deadpan, she looked him full in the face and repeated herself. "Do you have a girlfriend?" She realized that perhaps it was unclear as to whether she was asking out of personal interest or not—and she quickly clarified. "I'm guessing Hanashima-san included this because you are popular with the girls in school. It's probably a good way to get them interested in the article."

His cheeks dimpled in a look of amusement. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Kanon blinked slowly, the tip of her pen poised to take down the response, and yet she hesitated. "Why not?"

"Is that question for the article?"

Sobered by his response, she shook her head and wrote down what he had said. "No, and it's not relevant. You don't need to answer."

"I don't mind answering. It's because right now there are things more important to me—like focusing on basketball."

"I won't write that down," she told him. "Hanashima would rather the girls think they have a chance." Having cycled through all the questions required for the interview, she finished with a cursory glance through the answers. Satisfied with the end product, she tucked the notebook and her pen back into her bag before standing abruptly. "Well, thank you for your time. I'm just going to take some pictures of the basketball team playing and I'll be on my way."

"Are you not interested in basketball, Hirose-san?"

She stared blankly back him.

"You're giving me a look like you can't believe I would ask," he said with a chuckle.

Kanon expelled a quiet sigh before scratching at the side of her cheek. People normally left her alone—which was what she preferred. Being actively engaged in conversation was something she was unaccustomed to. "I don't really care about sports."

"Then what do you care about?"

Her lips grew taut, and she thought about deflecting the question back at him. No one had ever taken an interest before. "I like photography," she told him, glancing down at the camera now nestled between the two of her hands. "Not people... I like to take pictures of scenery."

"Why join the newspaper club then?"

Kanon peered directly into his eyes and said, "Because to do something you love, you have to make sacrifices." She turned her back toward him and lifted the camera to her face, meticulously adjusting the lens before snapping a shot. "Just a few more shots and I will be on my way. Thank you again for your time."

Perhaps her appreciation seemed insincere since she didn't even bother to face him when paying her respects, but if he thought so, Himuro did not indicate as much. "No, thank you for being willing to take Hanashima-san's place for the interview."

Once they had paid mutual formalities and she had wrapped up the last of her work, Kanon bowed her head one last time to Himuro and the captain of the team, and then she ducked out of the gym. The feature for the newspaper, she hoped, would prove acceptable in light of Hanashima's inability to perform the interview herself.

—

Scarcely a week had passed when she spotted her name up on the board beside Himuro's, and she supposed that it was thanks to the luck of alphabetical order that the two of them happened to be on cleaning duty together. It was after class had let out that she found herself alone with him, holding a broom in the far corner of the room while he busied himself cleaning the chalkboard.

"Aren't your teammates practicing right now?" she asked. Ordinarily she would hurry through the chore without making any conversation, and yet here she was awkwardly inquiring about something she didn't even care about.

"I expect they are." Himuro answered without looking back, though she could imagine him smiling even as he recognized that he was essentially wasting time cleaning when he could be practicing with them.

"I can take care of this if you want to go."

He froze in the middle of clearing the last quarter of the chalkboard, and he looked back at her in surprise. Just as quickly he composed himself and his lips curled up into a gentle smile as he echoed back the words he had received from her, "To do something you love, you have to make sacrifices."

In that moment, the impression she had of him changed. She clamped her lips and returned to sweeping the corner of the room, not making another mention of him missing practice. It was impossible for her not to feel a begrudging respect for someone who would insist on attending to their responsibility over other engagements.

"By the way... back when I interviewed you, you knew my name." The curiosity had been niggling at the back of her mind, like a pesky fly buzzing around one's face. She couldn't shake it off any longer and finally blurted out the question with her back still turned to him.

"We're classmates."

"Even other classmates don't know who I am."

He hummed. "Maybe they don't pay enough attention to their surroundings then."

It was at that point that she decided Himuro Tatsuya was an anomaly among high school boys. She had never been particularly attractive nor charismatic—she was the rather plain, gloomy girl seated in the corner of the classroom that kept to herself and had no discernible interest in anything.

For most that would qualify as someone passing under their radar completely, and yet here was someone who was not alone popular but passionately and intensely focused on something so much that it would be unsurprising they weren't completely oblivious of everything else around them. Yet not alone was Himuro perceptive and aware, he held no discriminatory prejudice against anyone for their preoccupations or quirks.

She stared at his back, watching the ripple of his muscles beneath the thin fabric of his uniform. Then she decided, "I don't understand you."

"Do you want to?" he asked without skipping a beat, finally finishing his work on the chalkboard. He dusted his hands off before looking back at her, a grin on his face.

Kanon pursed her thin, chapped lips as she contemplated the question. It made the most sense to say no—it seemed the most logical to be entirely uninterested, as she always had been. But saying that would have been a lie. "Maybe I do," she allowed.

"Then you'll have to talk to me more."

Was that a hint of playful teasing in his tone? She wasn't sure. "Is that okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Somehow she seemed to vaguely recall hearing someone say that he was "everyone's Tatsuya," and that anyone who approached without heeding that would find themselves on the receiving end of some hostility. Kanon wasn't sure she wanted to test those waters. She was perfectly content to continue flying under everyone's radar, going unnoticed through life.

"Talking to Hirose-san is interesting."

She started at his comment. "It is?" Her voice raised a few octaves.

"Mm."

Something in her stomach fluttered, and she found herself thinking that since she had never cared what people thought about her before, it would be silly to start taking that into account now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thank you guys for reading and reviewing the last chapter. I'm so happy it had a warm reception! ;A; I hope you like this next chapter as well.

**TheDroidsYouAreLookingFor** \- I have wanted to forever, and I tried but I scrapped my last attempt at one sobs - I am such a finicky writer sometimes. But you're so right - Himuro needs some more love. He's so _amazing_. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I hope you like this chapter too - I'm glad the premise and Kanon have you engaged at least :D

**Hind-x** \- Aw, I'm so happy to get a review from you again. Seriously, your feedback is always the most enjoyable to read! I don't know if this will be on the same level since it's smaller in scope, as in it will be much shorter. But I hope you can still enjoy reading it. I really loved the name Kanon, it just seemed to work for her. It's written with the kanji for flower and sound, and I loved it because it made me think of flowery language and she does none of that haha. (My fiancee mentioned in retrospect that it sounds like Canon camera, and then I just felt silly.)

**CassieSensei** \- Bless your heart. Thank you for the sweet compliments, and I'm really glad you liked Titanium and Superior. All the KnB stories I have written are really special to me. I'm glad I could share them and other people enjoyed them too!

**Savage Kill** \- As I hope to convey, Kanon is kind of a contradiction in herself - she does prefer taking still pictures to photographing people, but she's not as asocial as she tries to make people believe. But she is really bad with people. Thank you for reviewing, I enjoyed your comments! :D

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**Two**

The flash of the camera accompanied the audible sound of the lens auto-focusing. She hummed quietly under her breath as she lifted the camera until the nearly bare branches of the tree filled the viewfinder. A smile creased on her face as she snapped another shot, satisfied at how the pastel colors of the horizon seemed to highlight the edges of the picture.

It was early morning and her breath was visible, rising gentle through the air like smoke. She admired the view for a moment before trudging past the edge of the gym. The trees out back were the most picturesque—perfect to her aesthetic tastes.

Yet just as she was nearing her intended spot, she froze as she overheard something just around the corner. Kanon held her breath in surprise, instinctively clamping a hand over her mouth as she pressed against the wall. Before she realized what she was doing, she was already unintentionally eavesdropping.

"Tatsuya-senpai, I... I have liked you for a long time."

Peering around the corner, she spotted a familiar figure with his back turned toward her. In front of him was an attractive underclassman that seemed to enjoy quite a bit of popularity with the other first years. She had honey-brown hair, pulled back in a sleek pony-tail that was set with an adorable decorative scrunchie that had Rilakkuma plastered all over it. Even her make-up wasn't caked on, but applied in subtle hues and tones so as to accentuate her natural beauty.

Kanon, despite not utilizing them herself, had a certain appreciation for cosmetics. She compared it to the touch-ups one could apply in photoshop after taking a picture, to groom everything to perfection. Although she preferred everything to be in as natural a form as possible, she acknowledged the possibility to accentuate it with added effects, used sparingly.

"This is a confession?"

Himuro voiced Kanon's question for her, but then what else could it have been? Judging by the atmosphere, the secluded scenery which had been chosen—there was nothing else that it could be.

Sunlight was gradually creeping through the trees, highlighting their silhouettes. It wouldn't be long before the rest of the students would start pouring into the school. There wasn't much time left for snapping pictures. It would be best for her to—

"Yes... I want to be by Tatsuya-senpai's side. Laughing together, crying together. Can't I?"

"I'm flattered that you feel that way, but I can't return your feelings."

A pause, and then the crackling of leaves as the other girl fled in the opposite direction—much to Kanon's relief. She breathed a muted sigh before trying to creep away. She only made it a few steps before she heard him speak from behind her.

"You caught that, Hirose-san?"

She flinched, reluctantly peering over her shoulder back at him. Although she suspected he might be annoyed that she had eavesdropped, he was wearing a wistful smile. His expression was difficult to read. "I was... taking pictures," she mumbled.

At that, his brows peaked. "Really? Can I see?" He advanced toward her and peeked over her shoulder down at the camera.

Her shoulders stiffened as she almost robotically lifted the camera and began to cycle through the newest photos. Kanon had never felt particularly self-conscious before, but suddenly her senses seemed heightened. The smell of his cologne flooded her nose, mixed with a slight hint of sweat—which she had noticed lining his forehead when he approached. It must have been from morning practice.

"That one is pretty," he spoke with a hint of awe, reaching over her arm to point at the screen.

"She was pretty too," Kanon added, aware that she was changing the subject back. It was none of her business. There was no point in pursuing the matter, but she was struck again by the idea that she understood nothing about him when she watched him. How he could so easily reject an attractive underclassmen, how he noticed and paid attention to everyone around him—none of it made any sense to her. "Have you received confessions like that before...?"

He was silent for a moment, and she was afraid that perhaps she had said something unnecessary. "Yeah, I have."

The conversation felt awkward. She wanted to ask, but she had already done that for the interview. There were no other answers. He had already said that he had no time for a girlfriend. Besides, she didn't have a boyfriend did she? _But no one has ever confessed to me, _she thought.

"We should get to class." His breath felt warm on her cheek as he drew away from her. "It's already gotten this late."

Walking beside each other felt a little awkward, and for the first time she became aware of the height difference. It wasn't dramatic; she was actually a bit taller than most other girls, but there was a noticeable difference between herself and Himuro. He seemed to be purposefully slowing his pace for her.

"Was Hanashima happy with how the interview went?" he asked.

"She said she would have done a better job."

"That's not very fair."

Kanon shrugged her shoulders, unaffected by the unspoken complaint that had been lodged against her. "She's right. She has more drive and motivation than I do. Her writing is better too."

"There is a difference between being honest about your faults and tearing yourself down."

The fact that he said that in such a serious tone without slowing at all put her off balance, and she froze up as he walked on ahead. Himuro only paused when he finally realized she was lingering behind.

"Hirose-san?"

She stared at him, bewildered by the fact that he seemed entirely oblivious that what he had said could have been too abrupt or startling. "I really don't understand you at all," she muttered under her breath before stomping past him.

"Are you angry?" He asked once he caught up.

"No, you just confuse me."

Himuro only laughed.

—

When the lunch bell rang, everyone scattered from the classroom, hurrying off to the cafeteria. Only a few were left behind, gathering around in groups to eat their homemade lunches together. Kanon watched them with disinterest before peeling herself out of her seat.

The coins in the small purse in her hand jingled noisily with each step as she marched down the empty hallway toward the vending machines. She found herself wondering, during her short trip, if she had actually made Himuro angry earlier that morning.

She listlessly picked out the coins necessary for her orange juice before pressing them into the small slot, one at a time. Perhaps because she was immersed in her own thoughts, she clumsily missed the slot and dropped the last coin that she meant to insert. It fell to the floor and rolled to the side.

Tucking a few locks of ashen black hair behind her ear, she stooped down to recover it—just in time for her fingers to collide with another hand that seemed to be reaching for it. Startled, she looked up at the other person with rounded eyes.

"Himuro-san?"

When she met his gaze, he smiled gently at her before holding the coin out in his open palm. "Here you go."

Kanon decided to dispense with small-talk or empty thanks, taking for granted that her gratitude should be implicitly understood. She pulled the coin out of his hand and straightened herself before inserting the last of her money and procuring her drink. Since she was finished, she stepped aside to make way for him.

Himuro wordlessly stepped up and fished some coins out of his pocket. She listened to the rhythmic clink of them dropping inside one-by-one. At least until it stopped abruptly and she spotted a frown forming on Himuro's face as he started patting each pocket.

"I'm short," he said in surprise, glancing over at her.

She wondered if he planned to ask if he could borrow any, but before she could wait for him to broach the subject, she was already digging into her coin purse. "Here... take this." Kanon passed him over the necessary remaining change.

"Now I'm in your debt."

Kanon redirected her gaze at the floor as she punctured her juice box with her straw, taking a short drink. "I'm not concerned about it," she mumbled. "Enjoy your lunch." Just as she was about to make her retreat, he called out to her before she made it more than three steps away.

"Are you eating lunch in the classroom today?"

Dark gray eyes peered back at him. "Yeah..."

"Do you eat with friends?"

He was making small talk while seeming to debate which drink he wanted, his hand hovering over the panel. Kanon tilted her head as she watched him, puzzled by his indecision. Although she thought she should just return to the classroom without pursuing conversation any further, she wandered close enough to watch as his gaze flit between two flavors of fruit juice.

"I don't have any friends to eat with." There was no hint of loneliness to her voice when she said that, it was simply an honest assessment of her social life.

Himuro glanced over at her thoughtfully. "You don't want to eat with anyone?"

"It's not that." She made a face, feeling uncomfortable having to explain it. "It's quieter in the classroom. People like to make small talk a lot. I don't want to talk unless if I have something to say."

Finally making his decision, he pressed the appropriate button. As his drink was being vended, he bent down to get it and said, "Really? This is small talk. Do you dislike it, too?"

"I don't dislike it. But it's because Himuro-san keeps asking me questions that I respond. Normally I'm not a very interesting person to talk to."

"Isn't that because people don't know how to talk to you?" He gave her that veiled smile again. It was like a default mask that he always wore, and beneath it she could see nothing. That was why Himuro was so difficult to read. "You have to put effort in too, though. You won't get along with people if you're rigid."

"You can say that because you get along with people easily," Kanon complained, feeling a little indignant. He scolded her earlier too and she disliked it. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we switched places. Then you might not say those things."

"Was I being insensitive?"

If she looked up at that disarming smile of his, she might lose her courage to speak frankly. So she kept staring at her feet. "It's easy to criticize other people if you haven't walked in their shoes, that's all."

She felt a hand gently patting her on the head. "Sorry if I upset you."

Finally she looked up at him and saw that he had a genuinely apologetic expression on his face. Her chest tightened. "No," she mumbled, "it's not like I'm particularly upset."

"If you ever want to, you can come eat lunch with me."

Kanon stared back at him flabbergasted, mouth agape for a moment until she gained her bearings. "Wait... what?"

"Did I say something weird?" His brow quirked.

"Do you invite just anyone to eat with you?"

"Friends."

Kanon blinked slowly, trying to process that. "You think we are friends?"

"Is there something wrong with that?"

She bit her bottom lip, chewing on it pensively as her fingers gently indented the half-empty juice box she was holding. Kanon wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about this. Was she supposed to be happy that she had made a friend? "Who else do you eat lunch with?" She skipped answering his question and instead made a query of her own.

"Atsushi—from the basketball team—his girlfriend, and sometimes her friend."

The fact that it was actually such a small group surprised her. Considering his popularity, she suspected he would have a whole harem to accompany him to lunch. Still, she felt a little reluctant to be pulled along at his pace. "Maybe… I could try eating with you some time then."

"Any time you want," he said with a smile, giving her one last pat on the head before leaving.

Kanon watched his receding back as he headed for the rooftop. Her heart was drumming noisily in her chest, against her will.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Thank you guys for your patience, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I really appreciate you taking the time to review. :D

**Hind-x** \- I love your analyses and I appreciate your rambling! Himuro really breaks my heart, which is why I'm glad I could write this fic because for the most part it's intended to be light-hearted and cute. God knows he needs that. I don't know that I could produce angst for him, solely for the fact that it would crush me too much. He's one of those cuties you just want to wrap in a blanket and protect from the world. (Or maybe I'm weird!)

**Tsuru Maiden - **Yes! It's Reira - she makes a cameo in this story. Thank you for all of the kind compliments - I'm glad you have enjoyed my stories and that my writing has managed to strike a chord with you. I really enjoy writing, and I love OC stories and trying to construct complex, multi-faceted OCs. The story title was changed to Viewfinder because of my frustration that I couldn't use the percent sign in the title and had to type it out instead. Stylistically it wasn't appealing to me so I chose Viewfinder because I think it better represents the differing perspective between Himuro and Kanon about matters - but also similarities. If that makes sense.

I would certainly love to check out your story. I don't have any time outside of updating and writing until May, so it may be a while before I can check it out but I will once I have time. (I have 5 papers and 2 presentations to finish in the next 2-3 weeks, so I'm super pressed for time atm.)

* * *

**Three**

Although it was her intention to capture the scenery, it was coincidence that allowed her to find him. She angled the camera until he was in the viewfinder, and she found her lips creasing as she zoomed in a little bit—making meticulous adjustments before taking the shot. The flash seemed to catch his attention and he stopped staring blankly forward, choosing instead to glance over at her.

"I thought you didn't like taking pictures of people."

She fiddled with her camera as she approached him, reviewing her previous shots so she could examine the one she just managed to sneak out. The melancholy that he had worn on his face in the shot was no longer present as she settled down on the cement beside him, their backs both leaning against the outer back wall of the gym. This seemed to be his favorite spot.

"Not busy with club activities?"

"Only when they need me for something," she answered, powering off her camera.

Himuro hummed thoughtfully.

Kanon peered at him side long through the curtain of bangs hanging over her face. "Something is bothering you."

"What makes you say that?" he deflected with his usual smile.

By this time, she had grown accustomed to that amiable façade. The real Himuro seemed to be buried deep beneath it, and her glimpses at him were far and few between. She wanted to see more of that side, know who he was beneath the mask. "Isn't it considered rude to lie to a friend?"

"That's harsh. I just wondered how you could tell." Himuro's face gradually relaxed as he averted his gaze. "Winter Cup is almost here."

She listened silently.

He took a sharp inhale. "I'm going to be competing against someone that was once like a brother to me."

"What do you mean by 'once,' are they not anymore?"

Himuro hesitated uncharacteristically. "We're rivals."

Kanon was having difficulty trying to piece together the correlation between these things and his apparent wistfulness. She scrunched her face up in frustration. "I don't get it," she declared honestly. "Why does it bother you to be competing against him?"

"Do you know what it's like to be inferior to someone else?"

Her lips pursed.

"He's always been better than me. I don't want to lose to him, but I don't want him to let me win either."

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a fresh juice box that she had just bought a few minutes prior. It felt cool against her palm as she reached it over and pressed it against the side of his face.

Surprised, Himuro turned to gaze over at her. "For me?" He asked as he took it from her.

"Being rivals is fine, but if you were that close, it seems a waste to throw away what you had together." Kanon shrugged her shoulders. "But I'm just an outsider. I don't know about your relationship."

She felt a weight on her head, and she was sure he was patting her. "No, you're right. That's why I feel conflicted. I feel like it will be even harder if I don't win of my own power this time."

"It's fine, isn't it? If you lose of your own power. Because it still means he faced you seriously." Although she thought she might be encroaching on sensitive territory, she spoke frankly. "I guess that's not the right sports attitude, but I don't really understand it. I think it's enough if you're passionate and you and your team do your best and get as far as you can get."

"You're right," he said with a laugh. "Sometimes when you get really into the zone, you forget about that—about what's most important."

Somehow she felt a little bashful since he was still stroking the top of her head—as though she were a pet. "You don't have to keep patting me like that."

"You dislike it?" Himuro lifted his hand away.

"I kind of understand why so many girls in school are attracted to you," Kanon mumbled thoughtfully. It was probably something better left unspoken, given how startled he looked the moment she let the words tumble out of her mouth.

"Do you...?"

"Huh?" She tilted her head. "Did I say something weird?"

"No, well… you don't like me, do you, Kanon-san?"

Her eyes rounded at the sudden familiarity. Although he was still using honorifics, had they already made the transition to using first names? The thought of calling him Tatsuya made her feel a little uneasy and embarrassed. Silly, because she never experienced such hesitation with anyone else. "We're friends. It would be weird if I disliked you?"

"Not like that."

She cocked her head to the side as she peered over at him. "Oh. You want to know if I have fallen for you?"

When he didn't respond and instead punctured the juice box with his straw, she assumed she must have guessed right.

"Nope. You don't have to worry. I won't fall for you."

The two of them sat in the gentle evening breeze as the sun started to duck over the horizon. In the distance they could hear the bustling sound of the last of the sports club students pouring out of their crevices. Everyone was heading home since it was already so late out. Yet when she glanced over at Himuro, he gave no indication that he was ready to leave. Kanon wondered how long he had been spacing out here before she happened to spot him on accident.

As he finished the last of the juice, Himuro finally took to his feet, dusting himself off before offering her a hand. "Ready? Looks like everyone else has already left. We should be going too."

Kanon lifted a hand and settled it into his palm, heaving herself back up to her feet with his help. She then reached down to retrieve the camera that she had earlier set aside. "I have to return this before I leave then."

Before she could bow her head and run off in the opposite direction, Himuro asked, "What direction do you live in? Maybe we can walk together." When he smiled, she noticed small dimples in his cheek—and it was the first time she really thought it was sincere.

—

"It's quiet in here," she commented as she entered the clubroom for the school newspaper the following day. Everyone was seated around a rectangular table, most of them working individually on various parts of the publication process.

The ordinarily bright-eyed Hanashima waved Kanon down, beckoning her over. She spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "Tomorrow we are heading out to watch the Winter Cup quarter-finals. Since Yosen has advanced that far, we have to be the ones to cover their next big match."

Kanon tilted her head. "Are quarter-finals really that impressive?"

"You're tactless. Of course it's impressive. The more our team wins, the closer they get to the final." She expelled a sigh of exasperation. "Don't you get it? The third years will be retiring after this."

"Oh." That had never occurred to her, and suddenly she felt a pang of guilt when she thought about how she had dismissed so readily the thought of winning when she talked to Himuro before. It wasn't necessarily about beating the other team; it was about being able to play another game as a team, to be able to advance together.

"You don't have to go," the adviser of the club piped up and insisted. "You can interview the players after."

"Wouldn't it be better to get an actual picture of them right after their victory?" Hanashima pumped her fists. "Gah, thinking about it just fires me up."

"Basically you just want to cheer them on," Kanon assessed dully. She was not impressed, and she had no interest in watching. "Go by yourself."

Hanashima seized her by the arm as she tried to escape. "No way, I want to go watch, and I need my trusty cameraman." Realizing that might not be convincing enough, she glanced at the club adviser. "In fact, if you agree, I can submit a form to let us take out our best camera for the whole weekend."

"The whole weekend?"

"And the area where the tournament takes place is very scenic. Perfect for photography."

"Scenic…"

"But, I mean, if you don't want to go, I can find—"

"I will go," Kanon decided firmly.

The following day was an awkward ride on a bus full of basketball players. Some of them seemed to leer at the two girls, who were pushed to the front of the bus and directly across from the coach, who had her arms firmly crossed over her chest. Apparently Hanashima's parents had some connection to the coach—Kanon wasn't keen on the details.

"Isn't it nice? Getting to ride along with the whole team. Really puts you in the mood."

"I don't understand Hanashima-san at all."

The brunette was grinning maniacally as she peered around at the players, some of whom looked away with a blush. Well, she was energetic, charismatic, and although Kanon supposed she didn't have an eye for judging attractiveness, Hanashima seemed pretty.

"So, who is your favorite?"

Kanon blinked, confounded by the question. "My favorite what."

"Player, of course," she said with an obnoxious laugh.

"That one." She pointed to the very back of the bus, where one head stuck out so far it was nearly colliding with the ceiling.

"Murasakibara, hm. He is a prodigious first year, he is the center of the team—amazing at defense—"

"No, I just like his hair. It's purple."

This time it was Hanashima's turn to be at a loss. "Oh..."

Kanon sighed, already exhausted from the amount of pointless talking that was happening. She really wished she hadn't been so easily conned into going.

"Aren't you going to ask my favorite?"

Honestly no, she had absolutely no intention of humoring any further small talk. But she recognized that social norms did not allow her to rebuff every person's attempt at interaction with her. So , in a strained voice that conveyed her disinterest, she asked, "Which one is your favorite?"

"Himuro Tatsuya."

"Of course."

Hanashima seemed surprised for a moment, then suddenly her cheeks flushed. "N-no, don't misunderstand anything. I meant that he's my favorite because of his abilities. He works really hard, and he's a really good player. He handles Murasakibara well too."

Even if she was lacking in the social department, it was hard not to realize a list of excuses when she heard them. She thought about pointing it out, but inevitably Kanon clamped her mouth shut. Somehow she felt bad for Hanashima, especially if her whole motivation for this was to pursue Himuro. Hadn't she read the interview? He wasn't interested. It was stupid to fall for someone who wouldn't return your feelings.

The conversation seemed to easily segue in the direction of love, and predictably, Hanashima broached the subject. "Hey, Kanon-chan, do you have anyone you like?"

"Nope."

Hanashima seemed disappointed. "But you must have liked someone since you came to this school. Do you have an old crush?"

"Not really."

Her shoulders sagged and she sighed once more. "Seriously, are you a robot? How can you be so uninterested in other people?"

Kanon stared out the window, catching her own reflection in her periphery. She wondered if she was the odd one. Yet when she looked up toward the front of the bus, she caught the sight of Himuro in the driver's rear view mirror. It surprised her, and she felt her heart start drumming noisily.

"...-chan...?"

He was having a conversation with the oversized man beside him, who had managed to sneak in a whole bag of snacks that he was promptly stuffing into his face. Himuro had an amused look on his face as he turned his own eyes forward, and by mere coincidence he looked up and seemed to spot her in the rear view mirror as well.

Perhaps it was her imagination—perhaps he didn't see her at all. But he smiled, and the moment she saw it, she looked away.

"Oi, Kanon-chan?" Hanashima repeated again, sounding annoyed as she waved a hand in front of the darker-haired girl's face.

"Huh?"

"We're almost there, see? That's the center." She pointed outside of the window.

"Oh… good." Kanon didn't even follow the conversation or glance in the direction that was being referenced. She stared down at her lap and started to wring her hands nervously.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Oh man long day at school so I'm going to keep this short and sweet. Thank you guys for the reviews and all of the kind support. I hope you enjoy the latest update!

**ChocolateWolfey - **There's no such thing as a bad reviewer! Well, okay I get a little disappointed at the reviews that just consist of "more" but I do appreciate knowing that people must like it enough to _want more. _So seriously, thank you - just saying "it's good" is fine if you can't think of anything else. I always love reviews!

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**Four**

"Go Yosen! Win, win, win!"

While Hanashima was screaming at the top of her lungs at the front row of the bleachers, Kanon remained seated with her camera in her lap. She stared dispassionately down at the court, watching the last minute as it played out dramatically. When it ended, she assumed she would stand up and take a few shots—defeat or victory.

Yet for as much as she thought the results would be meaningless to her either way, seeing the sweat pouring down Himuro's face as he fought desperately against the clock and the opposing team made her heart sway. She wouldn't admit as much audibly, but she found herself hoping that they would win.

When the last play came, he heart was pounding. The suspense was overpowering as well, and she found herself peeled right out of her seat. At first she thought it was Hanashima pulling her up, but she soon realized it was of her own volition.

"Are you going to cheer too?" Hanashima asked in a hoarse voice.

Kanon opened her lips. It was difficult to yell—and she didn't like it. But it seemed too anticlimactic to say nothing. An encouraging slap on the back made her yelp, "G-go! Win!" The words came flying right out before she could think them through and almost immediately the awkwardness of being immersed in a sports game hit her.

_What am I doing?_

Before she could contemplate how she had even reached this point despite actively disliking sports, her eyes were glued to the court as the last play started. After watching Yosen lose the ball in the last few seconds and seeing Seirin launch a counter, she couldn't help holding her breath as she watched.

_Please no—_

But it wasn't over yet; Himuro retrieved the ball and launched it at Murasakibara. They still had a chance. It was the moment of truth. Yosen wasn't going to lose, they refused to. An uncharacteristic emotion bubbled in her chest and she felt gooseflesh pop up across her arms as she anticipated the dunk.

Except, it never came—Murasakibara bent his knees, but he didn't jump. He _couldn't_ jump. An opposing player knocked the ball from his hand and buzzer sounded. Despite hopes for victory, the game was over.

The reality of it didn't hit her at first. She only believed it once she saw both teams line up and Seirin's victory was announced. Her forehead wrinkled and she frowned, while Hanashima sank back into her seat, whining and complaining.

Opposing players exchanged a few words, some of them shaking hands. Murasakibara seemed to be taking the loss the hardest—and Himuro was conversing with a taller man from the opposing team. Kanon could guess that he was the "brother-like rival" that Himuro had mentioned to her before.

The thought of taking some snapshots completely disappeared from her mind as she turned around to Hanashima, who was now sulking in her seat, arms firmly crossed. The childish reaction was not unlike what Kanon had seen moments prior from Murasakibara, and she almost felt amused. Almost.

"We were so close!"

Kanon pursed her lips. She wanted to point out that the point discrepancy didn't matter in the end; a loss was a loss regardless. The thought that it was close would be of no comfort to Himuro. She squeezed the strap around her neck from which the camera was dangling. Then a thought occurred to her and she quickly peeled it off, shoving it in Hanashima's direction.

"Take this."

"Wait, why? Where are you going?"

"I'll be back soon." Despite her hatred of running, Kanon took off at a quick speed, jogging down the stairs as quickly as her poor balance would allow her without tripping and tumbling down the rest of the way. It seemed like Himuro had gone outside. She wanted to catch him before he went far.

It took her longer than expected to find a door outside and locate where Himuro had ventured off. By the time she made it there, she was drenched in sweat and afraid she had already missed him completely. As she approached, intending to call out to him, she froze as she realized he was standing there with an attractive older woman.

Before she could slip into the shadows, fearing she was somehow interrupting something, the woman seemed to spot her. "Oh, you have an admirer, Tatsuya." The woman gave a mischievous Cheshire grin.

He seemed surprised to see her. "Kanon-san?"

"Well, I won't interfere. You two have fun."

Just as she tried to excuse herself, Himuro turned in a panic and called after her. "Wait, Alex. Are you sure you're alright?"

She flexed her arm and smirked. "Of course. Who do you think I am?" Just as quickly the blonde-haired woman walked off, sighing contentedly to herself as she headed back in, no doubt in hopes of catching the next game of the quarter-final.

In the wake of her absence, Himuro seemed to realize that Kanon was waiting quietly behind him. He turned toward her and offered and uneasy smile. She noticed that he strangely had a hand on his stomach and seemed to have an excessive amount of sweat lining his brow.

"Did something happen?"

"That's my question." He pointed toward her.

Kanon realized only belatedly that her face was covered in a sheath of sweat. She wiped it with the back of her sleeve as she approached him. The closer and closer she got, she realized there was some light bruising on his face, and some swelling to accompany it.

"Did you get into a fight?" she asked, alarmed.

He made a face. "I didn't fight."

Although it was not within her nature to reveal much emotion, the concern was mounting as she scrutinized his apparent injuries. Then she noticed his hand still pressed firmly across his chest. He must have taken a blow there, too. Kanon cast a gaze around the area. "Who did it? We should report them."

"Don't bother."

She gaped in disbelief that he dismissed it so outright, but just as quickly she clamped her mouth shut. "Fine, but you need to get a cold compress for your face."

He gave a humorless smile. "I never expected you to be worried about my face."

Somehow his remark made her recall Hanashima's question before about her being a robot, and she felt a little dissatisfied. "Come on, I'll help you with it," she said with a resigned sigh.

The rest of Yosen had returned to the bleachers to watch the next match, and so the two of them were left alone in the locker room where she was able to locate an icepack for him to put on his face. Then she was left to hum to herself in hesitation before invasively grabbing at the hem of his sports jacket, fully intending to lift it up.

"Wait, what are—"

"You got hit on the chest, right? Let me see."

Himuro reluctantly acquiesced, pursing his lips as she rolled up his jacket and the jersey beneath.

"You got kicked pretty hard it looks like."

Once he was sure that she had seen all she needed to, Himuro quickly smoothed out his jacket, hiding his bruised flesh from her view. "It will be fine," he said firmly. "When I lived in America I was involved in a few fights. This isn't the first time."

She took a seat on the bench beside him. "I forgot."

"You forgot what?"

"That you lived in America." She tilted her head. "I bet you got to see a lot of amazing scenery. Do you have pictures?"

Himuro stifled a laugh at her sudden enthusiasm. "Most people ask me if I'm good at English, not about pictures."

Her lips thinned. "Who cares about English? I want to know what you saw while you were there."

He dug into the pocket of his jacket for his phone, passing it over to her. "There should be a few in there," he said. "I didn't take many pictures of the scenery. Mostly of the people. You can probably see a little bit though."

Abandoning the concern she had been filled with for his injuries, she happily accepted his phone into her hands and eagerly dug into his photo archive. There were fewer selfies than she might have expected. Most were taken with other people, many dressed in sports attire that seemed to contribute to the idea that he spent most of his time there playing street basketball.

Among the many photos, few of them consisting solely of scenery, she spotted a few of Himuro when he was slightly younger. Beside him was a younger version of the opponent she had spotted him speaking to earlier.

She peered over at him. Himuro seemed to be more preoccupied with shifting the ice pack than watching over her shoulder as she flipped through something that most girls at school would give an arm or a leg to be looking at. "Did you... get to talk to that guy? Your rival."

"Oh." He didn't look at her. "I did."

"You said something stupid to him... didn't you?"

Himuro gave her an ambiguous smile. "Taiga wouldn't let it end like that. I know him."

At least now she had a name to put with the face. She hummed in thought as she continued cycling through the pictures until she arrived back at the beginning. When she was finished, she held it out toward him. "Thanks for letting me see. They were interesting photos, mostly of people."

He took it and stowed it away in his pocket before then holding his hand out expectantly.

"What?"

"A trade. Your phone?"

Although she was puzzled by this transaction, she willingly dug out her own cellphone and placed it in the palm of his hand. "There are duplicates and it's all scenery. I don't think you will find it that interesting."

Despite her warning, he thumbed through something—she couldn't see with the way he had the screen angled—and then promptly handed it back to her. She stared back at him quizzically. "Did you look through the pictures that quickly?" _Maybe he got bored that fast,_ she thought.

"I put my number in."

"Why?"

"Because we're friends, but you only talk to me when you run into me by coincidence at school."

She opened and closed her mouth several times, wanting to contest his accusation—but ultimately it was impossible. "It's weird if I seek you out intentionally," she decided finally.

"It's not weird to hang out with a friend."

Rather than argue the point any further, she stood abruptly. "We should go catch the last of the game before it ends." Essentially it was a cowardly way of dodging the subject, but she couldn't rationalize how she felt. Spending more time than necessary with Himuro was... intimidating somehow. It made her sweat, made her heart pound, made her feel dizzy.

She glanced back at him. Definitely an anomaly—no one else had made her feel like this before. How did he manage such an effect? Kanon frowned.

Before she could escape, he caught her by the wrist. She refused to look back at him. "When school resumes, eat lunch with us."

"...I suppose I can do that."

"We can walk together after club activities."

"We do live in the same direction," she admitted. It made sense for them to walk together. There was only a few blocks between their houses.

"Text me on the weekends."

Her brows furrowed together and she turned around, fixing him with a scrutinizing gaze. "Those are a lot of demands. Why do I have to text you on the weekends too? Do friends normally do that?"

He smiled at her, his cheeks dimpling. "Not just texting on the weekend. Let's go out places together."

"Go places? Where? Why?"

"Hm… The movies? Maybe the park. You could take pictures there."

"I can go alone."

Himuro shook his head, his grip on her wrist tightening. "I want to go together."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** This is actually the last chapter of this short series - I have a Sousuke and Tsukishima fic that I am getting ready to post shortly so I didn't want to drag this one out. Maybe eventually I could write a sequel - I make no promises! Thank you to everyone who stuck around to read the story!

**Tsuru Maiden -** I understand it being redundant; especially if the chapters are fairly short, as mine tend to be, there's not always a lot you can find to comment on. I try my best to answer questions I see, although sometimes I may forget - and I try to respond if there's something to respond to review-wise! I get what you mean, it sucks when you're excited about a series or really like an author and you write a long review and you get no reaction. But really, thank you for all your reviews and feedback on this story!

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**Five**

"Good morning."

It was the first time she had ever received a greeting from someone in the morning, and rather than reciprocate, she froze as she was digging her shoes out of the box in front of her. Her cheeks heated up involuntarily and she belatedly mumbled, "Morning."

Himuro seemed to purposefully loiter, biding his time until she had slipped her inside shoes on. "Exams are coming up," he mentioned, falling into stride beside her.

She peered up at him uneasily, forced to tilt her head because of the height difference. "Yeah... they are."

"A friend of mine is struggling with English, so we are going to have a study group."

"I see."

His elbow nudged her in the arm, and she regarded him quizzically—completely unaware of why he was prodding at her. "That was a subtle invitation. Are you going to come?"

"Subtle?" Her lips twitched. "I don't like beating around the bush. How many people are going?"

The fact that she always asked about the number seemed to indicate that she disliked crowds, but Himuro was quick to assuage her fear. "There will only be four of us, including me. One of them is Atsushi."

"Ah, the purple-haired one. He's my favorite."

That sudden remark seemed to catch Himuro by surprise. "Your favorite player? I thought you didn't like basketball."

She shrugged. "I don't like it, but if I had to pick a player then it he would be my favorite."

There was a complicated expression on Himuro's face as he digested that information. He probably didn't know what to make of it, given that she showed complete disinterest in everything. For her to even comment on Murasakibara seemed out of the ordinary.

Feeling a little satisfied that she had managed to stump him for once, Kanon gave a small mischievous grin. "I lied."

The fact that she was teasing him seemed like a curveball from out of nowhere, but Himuro recovered quickly, moussing her hair before she could duck away. "I should have guessed it."

"I guess I can go to your study group," she said as she opened the door to the classroom. "Just let me know when it is."

"Actually... I'm also having lunch with them today."

"Are you doing that subtle thing again?" she asked, stopping at the end of the row that led to her seat—completely in the opposite direction of Himuro's.

He smiled. "Yes."

"Oh. Then I guess I can go to that too."

She settled in her seat afterward and once class began, the most the two of them could do was exchange occasional glances. It occurred to Kanon that something was changing—within her and between them. Ever since the end of the Winter Cup, the two of them seemed to be spending more time together.

That was probably thanks to Himuro's persistence more than any effort on her part, though she did reply to his occasional text message. Her responses were probably considerably lackluster because they did little to elicit more conversation.

When the bell for lunch rang, she lifted herself out of her chair. She caught sight in her periphery of Himuro waiting by the door, and she caught up with him quickly. In her hand, Kanon was carrying her homemade lunch box.

"Did you make that yourself?" he asked as they walked together down the hallway.

She wondered where they were headed. Before it seemed he was eating lunch on the rooftop, but as the seasons were transitioning to winter, it seemed impossible to go up there without being thoroughly chilled.

"No. My dad made it."

"Your dad?"

"Yeah, my mom is a career woman, and my dad just works at an office. He has more time than she does. Well, not just that, he was an aspiring chef when he was younger."

The conversation seemed to interest Himuro, and he continued to steer it with question after question about her family life until they eventually arrived at a classroom. Kanon was puzzled by how he whisked open the door and invited her in like it was nothing—she was fairly certain that they weren't supposed to intrude on rooms during the lunch hour without permission.

When she entered she first spotted the purple-headed giant seated on a stool at a table. He was stuffing his face with potato chips when the two came in. Alerted by the sound, he languidly gazed over at them. The only acknowledgement that she received from him was a slight inclination of the head.

Hidden behind him apparently was a woman with bleached hair, her appearance almost stereotypical of a yankee. Kanon wanted to ask if Himuro had brought her to sit with a group of delinquents.

"Hitomi isn't here?"

"Previous engagement," the girl answered as she swallowed part of her lunch before redirecting her gaze to Kanon. "Who is this?"

"Classmate," Himuro answered vaguely. "Kanon, this is Murasakibara Atsushi and his girlfriend, Ogawa Reira."

Kanon stared blankly at the delinquent and her enormous companion. The two were both extraordinarily tall. She gave them a nod. "Hirose Kanon," she greeted with her name, skipping the option to supplement her year or class. It seemed unnecessary information—they could infer it because Himuro had already said they were classmates.

"Come and sit," the delinquent woman encouraged. Kanon had trouble remembering her name already.

She debated asking whether or not this was against school regulations to be eating in this deserted room, but she decided to feign ignorance. Whether it was or not mattered little to her, and so she climbed up onto a stool and set her lunch out in front of her.

"I've heard a bit about you, Hirose-senpai."

It felt strange to hear the word 'senpai' next to her name. She listened quietly while unwrapping the cloth that secured the two tiers of her lunch box before looking up. "Is that so?" It sounded less like a question and more like a disinterested filler sentence offered as truce to keep up the conversation.

"You're with the school newspaper, right?"

"So I'm told."

While Kanon started scooping rice into her mouth, she felt a heavy hand settle on the top of her head. "Don't mind her, Reira," Himuro said. "She isn't the most talkative."

The blonde-haired woman watched Kanon with a curious gaze, a slight smile on her lips. She didn't seem the least bit bothered by the fact that the other girl was largely unreceptive. "It's not much different from talking to Atsushi-kun."

Kanon glanced over at the giant who was now digging into his girlfriend's lunch box while she swatted at him to try to keep him back. It was a comparison she couldn't quite puzzle together. They were similar? She peered over at Himuro for confirmation.

He chuckled. "They are a bit similar. Talking to them gives you this calm, secure feeling."

"He has a girlfriend," Kanon remarked as she swallowed part of her omelet. "So you mean there is hope for people like me."

"Huh?" Reira seemed surprised.

"Are you cracking a joke?"

"Yes."

Himuro laughed heartily, patting her on the head. "You sounded so deadpan, no one would have known. Your delivery needs some work."

"Am I supposed to laugh when I say it?"

He tilted his head back and forth, contemplating it. Then finally he reached over with both hands and gripped either cheek, pulling the edges of her lips up. "If you smile then it will be better received."

"That hurts," she mumbled through gritted teeth.

Himuro promptly released her cheeks, listening to her complaint.

Watching the two through hooded eyes as she ate, Reira smiled as she finished the last of her meal—despite the fact that she had been forced to battle with the oaf beside her for it. "You suit each other."

Despite being socially inept for the most part, Kanon wasn't entirely unaware of the meaning behind those words. She traded glances with Himuro, who wore an ambiguous expression and soon looked away as if he was ignoring the remark. Instead of confirming or deny it, she decided on the simple statement, "I see."

"Ahh, I need to go to the bathroom," Himuro said suddenly, peeling away from his seat and leaving his half-eaten sandwich behind. He retreated out of the room, dodging the now awkward atmosphere that had settled over them in the wake of Reira's remark.

"Did I embarrass him?" Reira wondered out loud, looking to her boyfriend for confirmation.

"Never seen Muro-chin embarrassed."

Kanon tilted her head as she watched the two interact. "It's probably awkward for him to hear things like that," she said. "He seemed concerned about it before, too. I already told him I won't fall for him, so it's fine."

The fact that she voluntarily offered such a long comment on her own seemed to startle Reira, but she quickly recovered and exclaimed in surprise, "You said what to him?!"

"I told him—"

"No, I caught that part," she said with exasperation in her voice. "It's probably because you're like Atsushi-kun that you don't notice it. But I don't think he's worried about it for the reasons you said."

"I don't understand."

Reira leaned back and started counting off the reasons, finger by finger. "He mentioned you briefly weeks ago. He mentioned you might come to eat lunch with us. He mentioned you went to the Winter Cup and watched him compete and helped him."

Kanon blinked. "He talks about those things?"

"Maybe not in so many words. He's not _that_ obvious, but..."

"Ah." A sudden look of vague realization seemed to cross the giant's face and he turned his gaze to Kanon. "Muro-chin likes her."

Seeming alarmed by the fact that he had blurted it out, Reira glowered at her boyfriend. "You weren't supposed to say it like that—not so bluntly."

"Oh."

The door to the room abruptly opened before their conversation could reach a conclusion, and Himuro seemed completely oblivious of the tension in the air as he returned to his seat. "Did you guys talk about anything while I was gone?" he asked as he peered around at the others at the table.

Murasakibara opened his mouth, perhaps to rat them out, but Reira quickly slapped a hand across his lips to keep him from blurting anything unnecessary out. Then she cleared her throat and spoke up. "We were just asking Senpai about her hobbies." She hesitated for a moment, giving her boyfriend a look before saying, "Uh, we're just... going to go get some drinks from the vending machine. We'll be back."

"Alright."

Kanon watched the two as they were leaving, with Reira hot on her boyfriend's heels as he protested in complaint and she shoved him forward with threats muttered under her breath. The two were acting too awkward for anything to be natural, and once they were gone, Kanon gave Himuro a questioning look.

He only smiled as he shrugged his shoulders, happily taking a bite out of his sandwich.

After taking a few moments to process the previous conversation, Kanon finally made a decision and turned toward Himuro with a serious look on her face. "I have never had a boyfriend."

He stopped chewing and stared back at her.

"Did I do the subtle thing wrong?" she wondered out loud thoughtfully.

He struggled to swallow as he laughed. "What are you trying to be subtle about? I don't even understand." Although he was supposedly confused, he had tears in his eyes that he was struggling to wipe away because he was so amused by her question.

"This is why I don't like beating around the bush," she said with a sigh. "I think you like me."

Without missing a beat he replied, "Mm. I do like you."

The fact that he confessed it without any hesitation or any surprise made her feel a little awkward. This was not how she had projected the conversation going. "Well, then... I..." Kanon tilted her head, completely bewildered.

"Do you like me?"

"Yes. I think so."

"You think so?"

She made a face at him, scrunching her nose up. "I've never had a boyfriend. I don't know what it's like to like someone. But being around Himuro is different than being around anyone else. So I think so."

"Tatsuya," he corrected. "You can call me Tatsuya."

Kanon held up a hand. "I refuse."

"Why?"

"Thinking about it makes my heart race. I don't want to."

Just as she thought he was about to laugh at her again, he simply smiled and patted her on the head. "Then I will take it as you like me. Can I consider you my girlfriend?"

"As long as I can keep calling you Himuro."

"Someday you will have to call me Tatsuya or it will be weird."

"I refuse."


End file.
